


Longing

by roseforthethorns



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Afterlife, Alcoholism, Angst, Depression, First Person, Grief, Loss, M/M, Memory, Reunion, Suicidal Ideation, life after death, suicide mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-09-28 09:18:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10085162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseforthethorns/pseuds/roseforthethorns
Summary: It's hard when you've been left behind. It's even harder when you blame yourself.





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

  * For [timetospy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/timetospy/gifts), [Boffin1710](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boffin1710/gifts).



> I don't know if I'll ever work through all my angst. I'd like to stop feeling like I'm going to cry all the time. But I know if I write when I'm feeling, then it's stronger. It helps get the feelings out. 
> 
> And timetospy and Boffin1710 keep telling me to let it out and not to bottle it.

I stumble through the door at the end of the day. I nearly trip on the cat and scream at her for no reason other than fear I've harmed her. I lock the door behind me and remember all over again why I've been dreading coming home.

It's too quiet.

Aching pain flares in my chest, and I'm biting back tears. Scotch will stop it...

... edges of things are blurry. It's good. Numb is preferable right now. Fuck dinner. Won't eat it anyway...

Manage to shower. Contemplating how easy it would be to slip and fall. But it's not a neat way of things. I finish another glass between rinses.

I still can't bear to throw your clothes away. Pathetic. But I have your cologne and on days when I can't get numb, I spray your shirts and lay them out. Once I woke with pillows dressed as you.

I burned the pillows and kept your clothes.

The bed's too big now. I don't sleep on it anymore. The couch is too, but it doesn't have as many memories. So I stay there. I drink and stare unseeing at the telly. I want to forget.

But if I forget...

The smile on your lips when I would say something you secretly found amusing...

How you would run your hand through your hair absently. You never realized you did it...

How skilled you were with your hands. In every way...

Your laugh. Infectious. Crystalline. The laugh I fell in love with...

The shape of your glasses, how you would move them to the top of your head when we kissed, how they fogged when you cried and didn't want me to see but I saw anyway...

Your eyes. They crinkled when you laughed, did you know? The perfect shade of hazel that always looked a rich green...

The feel of you against me as you slept. How you relaxed into my arms, sought my heartbeat when you thought I wasn't paying attention. I knew. I always knew...

I keep my gun locked away when I'm home. Because it would be so easy. One little bullet and I could join you. But I don't deserve it. I never deserved you.

There's a hole in my life the exact shape of you. I never knew how much I loved you until you ceased to breathe. Maybe you've forgiven me. Maybe you're watching.

But I hope you're not.


	2. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dead don't always die completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I was done with this, but it's been nagging at me since I first wrote it. boffin1710 encouraged me to keep writing, and I cannot thank timetospy enough for being my Beta.

I don't remember dying. I’m not sure anyone would remember the actual act of dying. But I remember you. I remember your hands, and your eyes, and the sound of your voice as you whispered to me. I floated above you, looking down on myself in a bed in Medical, tubes everywhere. That’s when you still spoke to me.

Then the MI6 chapel and a dreadfully small coffin with the Union Flag draped over it. Your eyes were dry, but your mind wasn't there. You were far away. 

Turing and Hawking can sense me more than you, I think. I'll find Turing staring at me sometimes. Or Hawking tries to swat at me. It's odd to see their paws pass through the space I know I occupy. I see them try to comfort you as best they can… why do you push them away?

You're in pain. God, James. Even after the others before me you never drank this much. Three fingers to start the day? Another three the moment you’re in the flat? God knows how much during the day. If you drink scotch in the shower, you’ll slip and break your neck...

I miss your touch the most. I keep trying to hold you, but my hands pass right through you. I tried to hug you last night and you laid out my clothes on the bed. Then you got drunk and dressed the pillows in my mustard cardigan and pinstripe trousers. I laid on the bed all night watching you sleep. I could almost pretend I could touch you again. But you burned the pillows today. 

You don't sleep in the bed anymore. 

I think you can sense me. Not always but sometimes. A glimpse from the corner of your eye or a ghostly brush against your skin. I keep trying to get close but the more I do, the more you pull away. 

I have to leave. I can't bear to harm you any more. My presence isn't letting you move on. 

Please don't follow. Please. Stay alive. Love. Live. 

Please James. For me. 


	3. Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you just have to follow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People have been asking for more from this, and I found my inspiration a few days ago.

The umbrella on the table is crap for shade. The sun is searing the back of my neck. Didn’t realize how much I stayed inside the last few months, think my skin could actually be blistering.

I’m sipping a martini and watching for my target. A last drink for a marked man.

*

_ “We have a new assignment from Interpol.” _

_ “I assume I’m being considered since I’m here?” _

_ “I was rather hoping for your input on who would be best. It isn’t a mission from which we would expect our agent to return.” _

_ “I’ll do it, Sir.” _

_ “I don’t think that’s wise, 007. You’re one of our best.” _

_ “Exactly. The best man for the job. Tell R… tell Q-branch I’m on my way for my kit.” _

_ “I can’t allow this, 007. Bond.” _

_ “Sir, I went through the tests to return to the field this week. I believe, if you look at your reports, I passed all my screenings. I am volunteering for this mission.” _

*

The chase does nothing for me anymore. No adrenaline, no excitement. Everything is silent.

It’s so simple after all this time to misplace equipment. My watch in a bin. The earwig while I’m chasing the mark. My gun in the canal. The tracker will be harder, but I have my pocket knife.

*

_ “Where is he? I heard he came in today for a mission brief?” _

_ “You just missed him. He left twenty minutes ago.” _

_ “What?!” _

_ “My hands were tied, Bill. He passed all his screenings and volunteered.” _

_ “You know what he’s doing, Gareth. You  _ know _.” _

_ “Know?” _

*

Then I just have to get caught. If you were here… you’d chastise me for being reckless. Your voice in my ear to ground and reprimand me, remind me what I have back home.

I don’t have home anymore, Q.

*

_ “Bill? Bill what’s wrong?” _

_ “Did you see him? When he was here?” _

_ “Bond? He came in for a mission brief.” _

_ “Eve, he’s left for the Moretti mission.” _

_ “... Bill… I…” _

_ “He didn’t say goodbye, Eve. To anyone. He’s not coming back.” _

*

It’s dark here. And fairly cold, so underground. It won’t be long now, and I’ll activate the homing device on the chip just before it happens. May as well send my body back to England.

I felt you leave. It must’ve been you. Suddenly the flat was just… empty. One moment I could almost imagine I felt your hand in mine. Then I was alone.

Soon, love. I’ll see you soon.


	4. Part IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the light and the pearly gates...

“I expected to know the moment you crossed over, not to have you sneak up on me, you bastard.

“Being dead has given me time to garden, of all things. Do you like the flowers? I created ones the same color as your eyes. Even here I couldn’t bear to be apart from you. I was good. I didn’t look, didn’t spy on you, though Heaven knows you would’ve spied on me, I think.” I look out over the lake by my garden, scared to look up at you, scared that it’s somehow just another dream. Another vision. “Leaving you… that is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But seeing you so devastated… it broke my heart. And I couldn’t bear to cause you more pain.”

You sit next to me and wrap me in a one-armed hug because my shoulders are shaking and tears are trailing down my cheeks. I’m so bloody  _ relieved _ to see you but I know it means you had to die. “How did it happen?”

“How it always would.” Your  _ voice _ . I couldn’t recreate that here. I can make flowers but not your voice. That’s always been you.

“Ah. A mission, then.”

“Of course.” Then, “Simon…”

I turn now, and I haven’t done your eyes justice. My flowers are pale in comparison to the crystalline blue of your eyes, and then I’m hugging you as tightly as I can. “You’re really  _ here _ ,” I gasp, crying into your shoulder.

You hold me tighter, and I don’t hear you cry, but your grip would’ve squeezed the breath from my lungs in life. “I’m here.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I died. I’m sorry everything went tits up, that you had to follow. I wanted you to live, to be happy.”

“You were what made me happy. With you gone… I didn’t have a home anymore.”

I lean back and cup your face with my hands. I can feel the stubble under my palms, and I stroke my thumbs over your cheekbones. You turn and kiss one palm, smirking a little though your eyes betray your true emotions. I don’t have the heart to ruin the moment by talking about those we’ve left behind. So instead, I kiss you.

I kiss you, and I’m home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> C'est fin, as they say in French (I think). I wanted to do a tag with James and Q reuniting in the afterlife, but it took me a little bit to hear them again. Thank you so much for reading, and feel free to leave a comment.


End file.
